


A Kiss for the Darkness Coming

by NothingTame



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Het, Loss of Virginity, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3197330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingTame/pseuds/NothingTame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the Circles fall, mages and Templars struggle with their loyalties, both personal and professional. Iris and Toby are loyal to each other, Templar and mage, but they never expected to be tested like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss for the Darkness Coming

**Author's Note:**

> This situation in particular has been haunting me ever since I started playing this damn game. I knew for every Templar I stabbed through the face, there was one out there somewhere protecting their charges and trying to get them out of the war. I wanted to write something for it. Short and sweet. I'm hoping it jump starts my writing on all my other stories I need to finish.

To say ‘love saved them’ was ridiculous, like one of those Tevinter ballads that oozed romance and orgasms from every stanza; it was a notion you considered for entertainment only, not something applied to the real world.

To be sure, the world was indeed very … _real_ right now.

 

* * *

 

Not two weeks before the Circles fell, Iris had kissed Toby, their first, right in the library of the tower. 

He still couldn’t fathom how they got to that point.

Theirs was a strange affair, conducted in secret and struck up on a grin. He’d done his Harrowing and she was the one tapped to watch over him, because she knew him the least out of all the Templars and she was the one more capable to end him if the need arose. But it didn’t, and her radiant smile of relief was the first thing he’d seen when he’d awoken.

 He couldn’t see all of her face, just the flash of teeth and the sparkle of beautiful brown eyes. When he’d stood, her head came up to just below his shoulder and the first thing he'd said was,

 "Aren’t you a little short for a Templar?”

 -before he’d blushed and stammered an apology. He heard a giggle from the opening of her helm, saw teeth flash again as she bit her lip. Her skin seemed dark, he wasn’t sure, but her voice was as clear as a mellow bell:

 “I make up for the height in other ways,” she assured him. Her words were relieved, playful, and a little suggestive without being overtly so. He decided he liked her immediately.

 The two struck up a friendship after that, as much as one could in a Circle where Templars and mages were forbidden to fraternize with each other. They wrote letters and left them in secret places, had brief conversations that conveyed volumes in several minutes. She was easy to recognize, being the shortest in the company, so he always knew where she was.

 “My father’s a dwarf,” she told him, the two hidden in the storage room on the fifth floor. He was storing empty potions bottles and she was on her way off duty. She watched him as he stood on a short stool and moved full boxes to the top shelf, she herself passing them to him every so often. “Mother’s short enough to be one, but she’s human. Father is still convinced she’s just too proud to admit she’s a surfacer who’s parents lied in order to make her feel better.” She snickered.

 He was becoming more and more anxious to catch that flash in the shadows of her helm, the one that meant she was grinning at him. It was in fact this very desire that had him stumbling, eager to see, and he lost his balance from his precarious perch.

 Toby was tall, taller than most folk but slender as a man can be without being bony. It made his landing on her more painful for him than her, her armor very uncomfortable, her body thicker and sturdier and made for harder use than him. Still, when he planted his hands on either side of her to push himself off, he’d slid between her thighs accidentally, his twisted robes enabling him to feel the heat of her unarmored inner thighs against his leather breeches.

 Her inhale startled him, poised above her staring down at her with wide eyes. Her face still shadowed, he caught a glimpse of dark eyes and soft lips, and then a pink tongue darting out to wet the latter. It was his turn to inhale sharply, his hips twitching against her.

 There was a clatter down at the entrance of the storage room, and thankfully hidden behind shelves, the pair managed to stumble to their feet quickly without mishap. The moment went by a secret.

 The stolen minutes became more frantic; time wasn’t long enough. The letters took a turn too, words of joy and friendship becoming warmer, softer, and more intimate. He confided his fear of losing control despite passing his tests and lessons with flying colors. She confessed her worry over her charges, that they weren’t given enough freedoms to enjoy a full life. He told her about how he’d been dumped in the care of an uncle when he was three, a man who hooted for joy when he’d found his nephew conjuring sparks at bugs in the courtyard, eager to be rid of the child he’d openly called ‘a parasitic burden’. She told him about her name, how her father had chosen the first thing he’d seen on the surface to call her. He confessed his admiration for her. She confided her love.

 Then it happened, she’d been sent on patrol around the perimeter of the lands the Circle called home, a task often sought after for the time spent out of the tower. Toby missed Iris terribly, and wrote her a letter for every day she was away in the blank journal they’d begun keeping jointly.

 He was doing just that in the library in the wee hours of the morning, unable to sleep and content to write out his longing for her, when she’d returned with the others on the patrol. She’d marched all night, had hit the baths and dressed in her soft sleeping clothes, and had brought her shield along to take to the armory, just in case she'd need to provide a reason for being out and about.

 He’d looked up at the sound of her footsteps, opening his mouth to greet the stranger even as he defensively closed the book he’d been writing in. He stood as she approached, and it was only when he noticed her height that he recognized her.

 In the lamp light, her skin was dark, a shade of brown that reminded him of cinnamon, velvety looking. Her eyes were dark and rimmed in thick lashes, black as midnight, a color echoed in her hair. It was longer than he expected, rippling in curls and waves over her shoulder and down her chest, clear past her hips. It was damp from her baths, and she smelled of lavender and verbena even from where he stood.

 It was strange hearing her voice without her helmet, strange and wonderful. He felt heat surge through him when she murmured his name.

 “I brought you something,” she said, offering him what she had hidden under her shield; a deep, purple iris, fresh and growing. “I thought maybe you could do something so it stayed alive. You know, magic and all that.”

 It was when he did, be-spelling the blossom as he still remained speechless, that he finally got to see that smile he’d only caught glimpses of. It lit up her whole face, stole his breath away and possessed him to finally do what he’d dreamed of since their stumble in the storage room.

 It was so chaste at first, a meeting of lips on lips, pressure and softness. Then her arms went around his waist, and his hands were framing her face, and she opened her mouth to sigh and her tongue darted out to taste him.

 A moment later and she was pushed against the wall, Toby using his height and leverage to propel her backward. His tongue stole across the length of hers, exploring its softness while she moaned into his mouth. Her hands traveled up to steal into his hair, gripping him close as he stooped to meet her. They only parted to breathe or change angles, slanting their mouths to kiss again and again. His fingers tangled in her dark tresses, her hands flipped their positions until he was pressed up against the wall.

 Eventually, though, he gripped her shoulders and pressed, parting from her and panting as he peered down, his vision hazy with warmth and desire and longing. Her own gaze echoed his need, her lips swollen with his kisses, her cheeks glowing and flushed beneath the darkness of her skin. He could finally see the shape of her, feel both her softness and power under his hands. She was strong, honed by her career and her work ethic, but she was unmistakably female, her curves full and lush, from her breasts to her broad hips, her muscled thighs and calves. It amazed him, her beauty, and wondered for not the first time how she’d ever come to care for him.

When she finally picked up her shield and her flower, she backed out of the library slowly, their journal hidden in her shirt, a warm smile on her face.

It was a smile he returned in all its loving glory.

 

* * *

 

They knew their romance was doomed at the best end of things, but it was Iris who made light of it as often as possible. It was her excuse for pinching his bottom when she came around a corner to find him nearby, giggling at his squawk as she walked away. It was also her excuse for meeting in the storage rooms on the fifth, first, twelfth, and tenth floor as often as possible for stolen kisses and whispered endearments.

It was also the reason why, when she was given leave for a few days, she boldly hid in a dusty, un-used lesson room before she left officially.

She’d managed to hide a note for him the day before, and he had no idea she’d arranged the meeting until an hour after her suggested time. He was afraid he’d given it all away, with his heady visions of her, his need for her, desire making parts of his body over hot and swelling.

He finally got to the room before dinner, the door unlocked down an old passage, a corner of the tower used for storing furniture and boxes. The room in question was stacked floor to ceiling with crates of old books and repair supplies, and he thought for certain he was mistaken until he heard her whispered greeting.

It was a maze of items, but he wandered through it to the back to find a space big enough for a bedroll and little else. To him, though, it was like he’d come across the Golden City, to see her in a loose blouse and traveling leathers, her boots off and her hair down.

“Your boldness always surprises me,” he laughed, cupping her face. He gasped when she stood on her toes to kiss him, winding her arms around his neck to draw him down on top of her as she lay on the floor.

“That’s good,” she breathed. “Then I’ll always keep you guessing.”

Her clever brown hands undid the toggles on his robes, swept inside to grip his hips and tuck him against her as she ground up in to him. He groaned into her mouth, his cock swelling against her, and he dug his fingers into her shoulders as he pinned her to the floor, breaking the kiss to pant. He pressed his brow into her sternum, trying to gather himself.

“Wait,” he gasped. “Just… wait.”

She went still, her palms brushing down his arms, up his chest, lifting his head to bring his eyes to hers. He knew they had limited time; he felt like a fool.

“Hey, now,” she whispered. “What’s this, love?” Her thumb brushed along the edge of his jaw, her lips feathering across his brow.

He sighed. She’d mock him mercilessly, he feared, but he couldn’t deceive her.

“I’m … I’m not sure I can…" he paused to swallow, his mouth gone dry. "I haven’t…” he tried, but he was too embarrassed to continue. He should have known better, though, known she’d understand.

“Ah,” she breathed, tilting his face up to peer at him. It was then he saw her smile, the warmth in her eyes. “That’s alright, Toby. I have," she whispered as she kissed him softly. "We can figure this out ... together.” The sincerity had him returning her smile, rebuilt his confidence with his love for her.

  _Maker. She is so beautiful,_ he couldn’t help but think.

Her kiss was gentle this time, a caress of lips on lips for long moments before she deepened it, draw his bottom lip into her mouth to suckle. The sensation had him thrusting against her leather-clothed thighs, and it was the first time he’d ever heard her whimper in that particular way. His flagging erection bore to fullness again, and encouraged by her response, he bucked into her a second time.

She broke the kiss to arch under him as he let instinct guide his body, her teeth digging in to her bottom lip as he rolled his pelvis between her thighs. Plaintive little whimpers escaped her with every push, and he grew addicted to the noises she made. Quick as thought, he unlaced her blouse to the center of her chest, groaning to see she wore nothing beneath it. Indeed, her nipples were poking against the fabric, dark underneath, and he drew down the white linen to expose her.

“That’s it,” she panted. “Follow your need, I’ll tell you if you’ve done wrong… But oh! Love…!” she gasped. “I-I say right now, I don’t think you c-can do wrong….”

Heady with desire and her pleasure, he dropped his mouth to her skin, tracing down her throat to the dip at its base, lathing her flesh with his tongue as he traced a wet path over her breast and the nipple that begged for his attention. Tracing a circle around it, he drew it into his mouth and gave it a long, slow pull. With a grunt, he felt Iris wrap her legs around him, moaned into her flesh to hear the soft, shuddering cry he coaxed from her.

After that, he was more apt to let his instincts guide him when it came to their love-making.

Eventually, they’d wriggled free of their clothes, dropped them aside until they lay against each other skin to skin. Things had escalated, both knowing they didn’t have forever but wanting to experience as much of the other as possible.

He had a hand buried between her thighs, propped up on his other arm to watch her as he slide his two fingers in and out of her tight sex, marveling at how wet she was, at the silken feel of muscles clutching at his digits. He also stared at her as she came apart, at the pleasure contorting her features, her own hand buried in her hair, the other digging into his shoulder as she struggled to be quiet, her eyes squeezed shut, her full lips parted to whine and gasp and moan.

He’d never been so hard in his life, staring down at her as she writhed on the floor because of him. His motions were going faster, harder, and when he experimented and curled his fingers up, he had to drop his mouth down to hers to swallow the shout she’d begun to loose. He repeated the motion of his hand, drawing back with crooked fingers again and again, and groaned into her kiss as she clenched and came beneath him.

She showed him how to brush her swollen pearl, gently, coaxing a few last tremors of pleasure as she eased down. Her body was relaxed, covered in sweat as she tried to catch her breath. He loved to see her like this, lit by lamplight, glowing, sated, and looking at him with such an expression of awe and wonder.

It was while he was lost looking at her that she’d shifted him between her thighs, and it wasn’t until she’d gripped his cock, still hard and mostly ignored until now, that he’d realized what was happening. The first brush of his swollen head against her dripping sex reminded him that there was more, and before he could stop himself, he was gripping her hips, tilting her up, and sliding completely home inside of her.

 _That was wrong_ , he immediately thought, listening to her cry and feeling her go tense. Horrified at first, he lifted up on both arms to see if he could fix what he’d broken, only to see her face lit from within by sharp, intense joy. And then she rolled her hips beneath him, and he was lost.

The feel of her around him, velvet honey around his rigid thickness, was truly indescribable. Her thrust had him rocking forward only to pull back, and he repeated the motion as soon as he could, again, and then again, pacing himself in an effort to draw it all out.

Iris was tight, squeezing him, and soft, aching whimpers were once again spilling out of her, driving him wild as he began to thrust and thrust in earnest. Curled over her, hands planted on either side of her shoulders, he panted down at her as he watched her fall into pieces, his powerful little warrior, her thighs squeezing his hips as he bucked harder and faster between them.

Soon, her breasts bouncing with his pounding, his grunts accompanying her tender little cries, he gloried in their joining, the pleasure spilling through his nerves, lighting his skin with literal tongues of electricity-

(later he’d be glad it wasn’t fire, and she hadn’t needed to Silence him-)

-that seemed to only heighten her enjoyment. He could feel her fluttering around him, the squeeze of silken muscles that coaxed an erratic rhythm from his hips. He threw his head back, gritting his teeth to stifle the roar that wanted to bubble up from him, his own hand flailing to cover her open mouth as she started to wail.

When she began to grip him inside of her, clenching and un-clenching again and again, he lost every sense of self he had, everything but her, and the world went blinding white and shot with stars of every color.

He came to his senses a little later, still breathing hard, somehow on his back with her sprawled atop him. He was sad to note they were no longer joined, but immediately appeased by the tangle of black silken hair spilled across his chest. He kissed her brow, her eyes, her nose, and her lips, smiling as she murmured his name in a voice so sated it made his skin flush with pride.

Their post-coital cuddling couldn’t go too long, and soon enough they were helping each other dress. She pulled on the small clothes she’d been missing when he’d found her, and pulled over her shoulder the travel pack she'd brought with her.

“I thought-” he’d started to say, a sheepish smile on his face.

“No, I actually do need to head out for a few days,” she laughed. “My mother’s meeting me in the town nearby.” She stood on her toes to kiss him. “Two birds and one stone, happenstance; I had this scheduled a while ago.”

He chuckled, ruffling his hair and blushing. “Be safe on your travels, love,” he bid her. He laughed when she yanked him by the neck to her level to give him another sound kissing.

“Try not to get into trouble, my deflowered lovely,” she cackled, grinning at his blush before she headed on her way.

In the three days she was gone the conclave in the Valley of Sacred Ashes exploded, and their whole world turned upside down.

 

* * *

 

Iris knew something was wrong the moment she crossed the threshold back into the mage tower. Messengers were racing to and fro, and there was an anxiety in the air that hadn’t been there before she'd left.

She was in her quarters and armored before anyone had to tell her, and she reported for duty just as the Knight-Commander called a meeting in the Templar chambers.

She was just in time to hear the story about the death of Divine Justinia, the explosion at the conclave in the Valley of Sacred Ashes, and about the delegation they’d lost.

“The other Circles are sending warnings of mage revolts in their very walls.” Murmurs feathered through the ranks. The Knight-Commander raised his voice, his tone hardening. “We’ve received conflicting orders from several different sources, varying between releasing the mages from the Circle, performing the Rite of Annulment, and everything in between.” He paced before them, back and forth. “It’s hard to know what’s truth and what is fiction, so at the moment, I’m inclined to hold fast until we know for certain what is going on. As it is, I don’t want any of this reaching our charges, not even the Head Enchanter. The last thing we need is for things to get blown out of proportion and a mage rebellion of our own tearing through the tower. So.” He stood at attention before his Templars, a posture they all adopted, spines stiffening.

“Until then,” he stated. “We do our duty and protect our charges, especially from themselves. Understood?”

The words hadn’t left his lips for more than a moment before an explosion reverberated through the tower.

A Templar in full armor burst into the room, armor scorched and dented.

“Report!” roared the Knight-Commander. “Davis! What’s going on?”

“The H-head Enchanter-!” he panted. “He received a raven, mages killed, says… says the Rite of Annulment is happening in every Circle-”

“That’s a lie!” gasped the Knight-Captain, a blonde woman named Harrison. “Half of our missives are from the senior enchanters of several Circles, surely-”

“It doesn’t matter,” wailed the poor Lieutenant, gripping the wall as his knees shook. “The Head Enchanter has performed blood magic, he says he’s going to free his fellows or k-kill us all trying!”

Silence rang through the council chambers.

Iris finally found her voice, terror for Toby making it quaver. “H-he’s become an a-abomination?”

The Lieutenant’s head dropped in answer.

Steel rang through the room. The sound of another explosion shot through the tower. Orders were being shouted, Templars filing out in lines of steel and grim determination.

Along with Iris, three of them were held back, each given a large brass key. The Knight-Commander addressed them, his expression severe.

“I want two of you to evacuate the children and all of the trainers. I’ve got them all on the third floor. You take them down the hidden outer stairwell to the door at the bottom. Your key unlocks this, it’ll get you to the tunnels and bring you out into the mountains after about a day’s walk. There are supplies at the end, so even if you have to stop midway, keep going as soon as you can. Barnabus,” he pointed to one. “You are going to find any mage not fighting and collect them as you go, and whoever you have after about a quarter of an hour, you take to the stairwell and point them out. You do this for an hour, no longer, and then get out yourself.”

He turned to Iris. “You need to get your sweetheart and all the other fellows in the research laboratories. Their knowledge is too precious to waste in what I suspect is going to be a war of historical, bloody proportions.”

Iris felt the blood drain from her face. She opened her mouth to say something, deny it all and protect Toby, but her superior cut her off.

“I was going to address it with you today, woman, but it seems the world has upended itself almost in your favor.” His smile was small and sad. “Your young man is a good one, one of the best mages I’ve seen, and terribly in love with you. In the grief that will happen today, I need to know I’ve done my best to help find someone a happy ending in all this.”

He lifted his head to address them all. “You’ve been tasked this because out of all my Templars, it saddens me to admit that you four are the most tolerant and most unbiased. I need level headed, strong soldiers to guide our charges and protect them. While everyone forgets it in the rage that’s to come, I refuse to let all of us do the same: Templars were made to protect the mages, not abuse them, or cage them, or shut them up like prisoners to live a life alone,” and here he smiled again, sad, at Iris, “or without love. Get our people to safety, and protect them. Head for Redcliffe, and pray the Arl will provide some kind of protection. Go, and may the Maker be with you.”

While the bustle of the Templars had alerted people on the lower floors, panic had yet to spread. It was to the credit of the Trainers in charge of the children that they kept their heads, understanding the true threat of the situation without little more than paled faces and startled expressions. Iris watched the hall to make sure no one saw the others evacuate the young ones and the older mages, sealing the way behind her with her key before heading on her own mission.

There were several entry points to the secret stairwell, a fail-safe put in should the unlikely happen. Iris kept wondering, over and over, why Head Enchanter Tauris would think his Templars would do anything less than protect him. She had to remind herself, however, that it was in the power of the Templars to invoke the Rite of Annulment; she’d imagine anyone under such a threat would feel the weight of it under the flurry of reports of rebellion and murder, false or not.

Lesser-used paths had her on Toby’s floor with little suspicion, but even as she rounded the corridor in full Templar armor, her love lifting his head to smile at her recognition, the largest explosion yet had everyone staggering.

And then the screaming started.

Whatever the mages suspected was going on, their calm evaporated when Iris tore her helmet from her head, her long black braid spilling down her back; she needed them to see her, to know she meant what she said.

There were about a dozen mages, the best in their fields of experimental magic, her own lover among them. They looked to her now with a trust that would have brought her to her knees in gratitude in any other situation; she needed them to trust her, now more than ever.

“Something’s happened,” she stated, stalking to Toby’s side and gripping his hand. His gray eyes went wide at her display, startled even further when she drug him down to kiss her. It brought her strength and solace when he returned the affection, and she drew back to the whole room staring at her.

“Something has happened and the Head Enchanter has become an abomination. The Circles are falling everywhere, there’s panic, the Rite has been invoked in several of them-” she lifted her free hand as the rest of the mages not on their feet suddenly scrambled to them. “ _But not here_. Tauris has pushed our hand, we’re getting as many of you out as we can while the rest of the Templars hold him off.” She lifted her chin to meet Toby’s eyes, feeling his love put steel in her spine. “We remember the purpose of the Templars; to protect, not to _murder_.” She looked to the rest of them. “I have a way out. The children are already on their way to safety, but the rest of us need to leave now. Are you with me, can you trust me?”

She didn’t need to look at him; she felt Toby squeeze her hand and murmur her name in consent.

In the end, she only had to subdue one of the mages; the screaming had her hyperventilating with fear and Iris’ Silence was the only thing that saved her. She hefted the girl over her shoulder as they ran down the hidden steps, and she passed the elf to a sturdy young man when they reached the entrance to the tunnels. Her key opened it and they all filed passed her.

“There’s supplies at the end, it’ll take about a day to get to it, but keep going, no matter what you hear,” she hissed at them. “The children, the trainers, and at least two other Templars are down there already. If you get to the end and you don’t see anyone, it means they’ve already headed to Redcliffe. The Knight-Commander thinks there’s a measure of protection there, and I’ve a feeling he’s right-”

There was a clamber at the stairwell. Iris shoved everyone into the tunnel, almost getting Toby through the door before he jerked her aside and made room to stand in the hall. He took her key and locked the tunnel door before shoving it back in her hands.

“I’m not leaving you,” he grit out, and gave her one solid, desperate kiss before putting her helmet roughly back on her. Power flared up his arms, a ripple of energy she recognized for the use of Force mages. “I love you,” he breathed to her, his eyes trained on the far stairwell.

Iris willed back her tears as she drew her sword silently, hefting her shield with it’s flaming blade etched into its surface. “And I you, my love,” she whispered back fiercely.

Barnabus’ corpse came tumbling down the stairs, immediately tripped over by fleeing mages. Terror in their eyes, the ran towards them with pleas of protection, and it was Toby that was fast enough to retrieve the key and unlock the path behind them.

Shoulder to shoulder moments later, they stared in horror at the abomination that ambled forward, wearing the charred and bloody robes of an acolyte.

“Oh, what have you done?” Iris moaned, wondering what poor young creature felt so much despair that they gave in to blood magic and demons.

Thankfully, the dance was a quick one, between her Templar power and Toby’s powerful magics, the foul thing was Silenced, sliced, and pounded into death. Without Barnabus, though, there would be no other attempts to rescue the mages that were left. Iris would not abandon the people fleeing through the tunnels.

“Can you blow the hallway?” she asked her lover, sheathing her sword and hefting her shield.

“We aren’t going back for the rest?” he asked her, his expression desperate. “Surely there’s more-”

“It was the Knight-Commander’s decision to evacuate as fast as possible. You saw it yourself; this kind of terror breeds abominations from every quarter, and it started with _Tauris_ ,” she explained. She closed her eyes as screams seemed to echo from everywhere in the mage tower, their home gone, violated. “Please, you have to trust me, Toby,” she whispered. “I don’t want to do this, but it’s either we cut off the exit and escape with who we have, or we stay and risk your life and m-my honor.” She choked on that last word; it would all mean nothing if it came to  _that._

He jerked to look at her, surprised. He was smart though, her beloved, and soon enough, he understood what she meant.

Even if he was the only mage left, untouched by blood magic and completely innocent, the best he’d hope for after this was Tranquility.

And Iris would never suffer that without making them pay, be them Templars or no.

With a determination she’d grown to admire in him, he set about ripping the keystones from the walls, bring the whole stairwell tumbling down before them as they backed slowly towards the tunnels. She stood in front of him, her shield raised to ward off stray debris as it came down, protecting them both as he opened the door, pulled her through, and locked it with her safely beside him.

It wasn’t until he took her shield from her that she realized she’d been clenching it with both hands, staring at the way they’d come, still hearing wails and screams through the cracks in the stones. She blinked at the light when he drew her helmet up and off after securing her shield to the harness at her back, gazing up at him through vision that blurred and wavered.

His warm fingers brushed her cheeks; she was weeping.

Suddenly they were on their knees, clutching each other in the wake of their loss and their survival, his tears soaking her hair even as hers darkened his robes.

“Whatever happens,” he whispered to her, fierce and protective, “We have each other. Always.”

Clinging to him, she gripped him harder and prayed that he was right.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
